


Weird Science

by Dracothelizard



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bath Sex, M/M, Mad Science, Science, Self-Denial, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: Written for the HHanon kinkmeme back in 2011.Prompt:  Sotherby/Charles II, sex pollenOne of Charles' experiments (hey, the dude liked science~) goes a bit wrong and coats both him and Sothers in sex pollen. This leads to some rather hurried consummating of hidden desires, if you know what I mean~.No non-con, please!





	Weird Science

“Sire!” Sotherby called out, knocking on the door of Charles' private laboratory. He strongly suspected that Charles' orders not to be disturbed while he was doing his experiments was just so the King could have some peace and quiet, and not because he was actually doing any science.  
  
“Not _now_ , Sothers, I'm in the middle of a very dangerous experiment!” Charles replied.  
  
Sotherby glared at the door. A dangerous experiment involving wine, no doubt. He opened the door. “I'm afraid it's-” He was interrupted by something wet hitting his face.  
  
Charles, holding an empty beaker, was looking at him wide-eyed. “Sotherby, you startled me!”   
  
“I'm _terribly_ sorry, Sire,” Sotherby said, reining in his annoyance as he felt the liquid drip off his face. “There wouldn't happen to be a towel here, would there?”   
  
“Sorry, Sothers, sorry,” Charles muttered, and immediately rushed to him with a towel.   
  
Sotherby reached out to take it, but then Charles was already patting him dry. “Er, I can – I can do that myself, Sire.”   
  
Charles nodded swiftly. “Yes, Sothers, of course.” He handed Sotherby the towel, and stepped back.   
  
“I apologise for interrupting you, Sire,” Sotherby said, glad to be dry. “What exactly were you doing?” He then recalled Charles' words. “You said it was dangerous...”   
  
“No, no, it's fine! Well...” Charles looked up guiltily. “Maybe a _little_ bit dangerous.”   
  
Sotherby tried to fight the fear threatening overtake him. “What _exactly_ was in that liquid, Sire?”  
  
Charles muttered something under his breath.   
  
“What, Sire?”   
  
“Phrodis'cs.”  
  
Sotherby narrowed his eyes at his King. “ _What_ , Sire?”   
  
Charles coughed, and looked at the floor. “Aphrodisiacs.”  
  
“Aphrodisiacs,” Sotherby said. Why in the world would the King need those? He was King. As far as Sotherby could tell, a royal title was a damn powerful aphrodisiac as it was. Add to that the fact that Charles was charming, intelligent and attractive, and it was a miracle women weren't throwing themselves shamelessly at the man.  
  
Well, more women, anyway. And quite a few men. The King flirted as easily as he breathed, even directing some of that charm at Sotherby on occasion. Not that Sotherby responded to it, of course. He was far too professional to get flustered by the King's smiles and winks.   
  
“Yes, aphrodisiacs,” Charles said, his cheeks an obvious red. “So, it's not poisonous.”  
  
“I should hope not,” Sotherby muttered. “What _exactly_ were you hoping to achieve with this?”   
  
“Nothing,” Charles told him, his eyes innocent, but his cheeks still flaming. “Nothing at all!”   
  
Sotherby sighed, wondering how he should broach such a sensitive subject. “Sire, if you have any... problems with the ladies, there's always the court physician, or...”  
  
“No!” Charles said immediately. “No, no, I have no problem with the ladies. None at all.”   
  
Then why had Charles locked himself away? “So, why the aphrodisiacs, Sire?”  
  
Charles moved forward to take the towel, and smiled up at him. “Sothers, has anyone ever told you your eyes really are the most marvellous blue?”

Sotherby could feel himself start to blush. “Not, er, as such, Sire...” This was hardly the time for the King to distract him with more of his ridiculous flirting. If the King had health issues, it needed to be taken care of.   
  
“Well, they are,” Charles purred, still smiling. “Really most marvellous indeed.”   
  
Sotherby stepped back, but Charles was faster, moving to his side to close the door behind Sotherby. “Thank you, Sire.” What was Charles doing? “But about the aphrodisiacs...”   
  
“I've always liked your eyes, Sothers,” Charles continued, still smiling at him. “So full of emotion when the rest of your face shows nothing.”   
  
Sotherby took a step away from the King. “Yes, well, part of the job,” he muttered. He couldn't exactly let everyone see his emotions. The annoyance at some of the nobles, or his annoyance at the King, for that matter.   
  
“And you do your job so well,” the King said, as Sotherby backed into the laboratory bench. “So dutiful, always there for me.”   
  
“It's what I'm paid for,” Sotherby replied, as Charles moved closer, effectively trapping him. “As I said, Sire, it is my duty to serve you.”   
  
Charles raised an eyebrow at that, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, is it?” he asked, his hands on either side of Sotherby, resting on the laboratory bench. “Will you obey my every command?”   
  
The laboratory bench that was digging into Sotherby's back as he tried to lean away from his King. “Well,” he replied, trying not to blush even more than he already was. “Within reason.”   
  
“Within reason?” Charles placed one hand on Sotherby's chest. “Shame.”  
  
Sotherby was fairly certain the King would be able to feel the wild beating of his heart through his clothes. “Sire,” he managed. “What is – what are you -   
  
“Sssh, Sotherby,” Charles whispered, and leaned in to kiss him.   
  
His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his entire being focused on the sensation of _Charles_ , but his rational mind kicked in before it overwhelmed him, and he pulled back. “I should go,” he said, and he stepped aside, moving towards the door.   
  
“What?” Charles frowned. “No, Sotherby, please.” He reached out to grab the man's sleeve. “Stay with me.”   
  
“Sire, I can't,” Sotherby told him, ignoring Charles' pleading look. “Something's wrong with you.”  
  
Charles shook his head. “No, no, I'm fine, you're the one who got the potion on you.” He looked at Sotherby pleadingly again.   
  
Yes, the potion of aphrodisiacs, he had almost forgotten about that. “Yes, Sire, why did you make that?” He tried to ignore the way Charles was still desperately holding his sleeve. “What is its purpose?”  
  
“Oh, it's a love potion,” Charles told him, suddenly smiling brightly. “It's supposed to make the person who wears absolutely irresistible!”  
  
Sotherby stared at him. That would explain everything. “Well, congratulations, Sire, you appear to have succeeded,” he remarked, eyeing the way Charles was now stroking his arm. “Now, if you forgive me, I should probably leave.” And have a bath. Perhaps if he washed away the potion, Charles wouldn't look at him like a starving dog would at a piece of meat.   
  
“No,” Charles told him, his fingers grabbing hold of Sotherby's sleeve again. “I absolutely forbid it, Sotherby, and you must do as I order you to, right?”   
  
Charles' eyes were dark and full of intent, and Sotherby gulped. “Technically, yes, Sire, but it would be in the nation's interests to-”  
  
He was cut off by Charles pulling him in for another kiss, leaving Sotherby to flail his hands in the air before putting them on Charles' shoulders, fully intending to push the King away, but...

But then Charles _licked_ at Sotherby's lower lip, and Sotherby couldn't help but whimper. It had been far too long since he'd been kissed, far too long since someone had slid their tongue against his, far too long since he had felt that heat build up in his body, far too long since he'd _wanted_ someone and actually had that someone want him in return, but...  
  
But then it was only the potion, and not Charles, and the rational side of his brain resurfaced. He pushed Charles away, keeping him at arm's length. “Sothers,” Charles whined, pouting with red, kiss-swollen lips. He looked at Sotherby, his eyes full of want. “Please?”   
  
This really wasn't _fair_ , and Sotherby stepped back, pushing Charles' hands off him. “Sire,” he said, hoping his voice sounded firmer than he felt. “I'm afraid I – I cannot obey your – your orders at this time.” He opened the door behind him, slipping out before Charles could launch himself at him.   
  
“Sotherby!” Charles shouted, banging on the door.   
  
He kept his hand firmly on the door handle, preventing Charles from bursting through. The two guards outside eyed him, clearly amused. Then one of them, the slightly taller one with the ridiculous hair squashed under his helmet, looked him up and down, and started to smile.   
  
“Hello, m'lord.”   
  
Sotherby let out a sigh. “Prevent the King from leaving his laboratory, will you?”  
  
“Anything for you, m'lord,” the guard said, and winked.  
  
“Excellent,” Sotherby said, nodding and leaving swiftly before the guard decided Sotherby needed to be escorted somewhere.  
  
*  
  
He was not coming out of this bath. Ever.   
  
The two maids who had filled it for him had out-done themselves with lewd suggestions, one suggesting she help him undress while the other had asked if he needed any help washing his back. Sotherby had shoved both of them politely but firmly out of the room before locking it.   
  
He had even gone so far as to throw his clothes in the fire, figuring that it wasn't worth risking any of the potion remaining on them. And next time the King locked himself in his laboratory, Sotherby would make sure to announce his entrance.   
  
Sotherby sighed as he remembered the feeling of Charles' mouth on his, and the way his body had responded. He thought he had got over his infatuation with the King, that his feelings from the time when they had been in danger of being captured had left along with the constant fear.   
  
He sunk deeper into the bath. Clearly he'd been very wrong.   
  
Bloody Charles and his bloody interest in that bloody Royal Society. Why had Sotherby encouraged it in the first place? He should've known it would only lead to trouble.   
  
There was a knock on the door, startling him. “Who is it?”   
  
“The maid, m'lord, you didn't bring any clean clothes with you.”   
  
“I locked the door!”  
  
“Yes, m'lord, but we also have a key, it'll be no problem.”   
  
He grabbed the scrubbing brush from beside the bath, ready to defend himself. “All right, you may come in.” It would be a good test, he supposed. A test to see if the bath had helped wash off the potion.  
  
The maid kept her eyes averted, leaving his clothes on a table on the corner. As she left, she curtseyed, her gaze at her shoes than on Sotherby.

A good sign indeed, and Sotherby started to smile.   
  
“Sothers!”   
  
He looked up to see Charles stand in the doorway, beaming at him. “Sire?” he asked, immediately sinking into the bath.  
  
Charles gave the maid a nod. “Yes, yes, leave us alone.”  
  
Sotherby sank deeper into the bath, slightly dreading this conversation. “Sire,” he said, as the maid curtseyed again and closed the door behind her.   
  
Charles strolled over to stand next to the bath, smirking a little as he looked down. “A bath, Sothers? How clever of you.”  
  
It didn't look like the King was about to jump him, and Sotherby started to relax a little as the King knelt down besides the tub. “I think it took care of the, er, problem, Sire,” he replied, blushing a little.  
  
The King nodded, looking a little embarrassed himself. “Yes, problem. Sotherby, I really didn't mean to spill that on you.”   
  
“I understand, Sire,” Sotherby replied. “I – I didn't think you would, er, need such a thing...” He trailed off, looking at the water. “You certainly don't seem to be lacking in attention.”   
  
Charles smiled a little. “Not always the attention I want.”   
  
“Well, it's fine now,” Sotherby continued. “And no harm was done.” No real harm, thank God. Sotherby didn't want to think about what would've happened if he had stayed in the laboratory. No doubt things would've got out of control, with Charles' kisses melting away his defences until... no, he didn't want to think about it. Definitely not thinking about it.   
  
“Yes,” Charles said, his arms on the rim of the bath, resting his chin on them. “No harm, eh, Sothers?”  
  
“And a love potion could easily cause harm,” Sotherby pointed out. Having been on the receiving end of it, he really thought it had been one of Charles' worst ideas. “I had a couple of guards and two maids after me, and that was with me avoiding people where I could.” He glanced at Charles. “Imagine if you _had_ put it on yourself, Sire. You can't go anywhere without servants, or guards, or nobles near you.”   
  
Charles smiled at him. “You really are my conscience, Sothers.”   
  
“It's my duty as your advisor, Sire,” Sotherby told him, glad there was no awkwardness remaining between them. His own feelings would disappear again soon enough, he decided. The paperwork and his other tasks would keep him busy and distracted.   
  
“Then advise me, Sothers,” Charles asked, and sighed. “If not a love potion, what then? I feel I've tried _everything_ already on... this person.”   
  
It seemed the King really was very interested in whoever the potion had been meant for. “And how do they respond, Sire? Do they like you?”   
  
“Oh yes, rather a lot if their past devotion is anything go by,” Charles told him. “But how do you go from a friendship of years to something more?”   
  
Sotherby considered everyone he knew to be a good friend of Charles, wondering who he was talking about. “I suggest you tell them, Sire. The sooner, the better.” He looked down at the water, already compiling a to-do list for the next few days. There were quite a lot of things that needed doing, and he really should start on some of the paperwork that was piling up in the Royal Library. If he locked himself up in there for a week, he could get most of that done.

“The sooner, the better,” Charles mused, “even if they're currently naked in a bath?”  
  
Sotherby snapped his head up to stare at him. “What?”  
  
“I mean,” Charles said, smiling brightly at him, “you always insist on propriety, Sothers, and I don't think that it would be terribly appropriate.”  
  
“But Sire, I'm...” This wasn't happening. “I've washed your love potion off!”   
  
Charles leaned closer to him, still smiling. “You don't need to be covered in aphrodisiacs to be irresistible to _me_ , Sothers.”  
  
He could feel himself turn bright red. “Sire, this is – you're still affected, clearly, and not thinking right,” Sotherby said. “Obviously the fumes from the potion have gone to your head and-”  
  
For the second time that day, Charles cut him off with a kiss. He put one hand on Sotherby's cheek, turning his head to make it easier for the King to lean closer. “Sothers,” Charles said, grinning as he pulled back. “Can you _please_ be quiet?”   
  
Sotherby just stared at him, his breathing coming a little fast and his heart racing in his chest. “Sire,” he whispered, “are you _sure_?”   
  
“Really rather sure,” Charles replied, and leaned in to kiss him again. “And I meant what I said this afternoon, you really have the most marvellous eyes.”   
  
He could feel the blush spread down to his chest, and was suddenly acutely aware he was naked. And wet. And starting to get aroused. “This isn't fair,” he muttered. “You could've waited until I was done bathing.”   
  
Charles just grinned, and gave him a brief peck on the lips. “And miss out on seeing you naked? Never!” His eyes met Sotherby's unimpressed stare. “Still not fair?”   
  
Sotherby nodded to himself as Charles stood up. Yes, space, that was exactly what they both needed. He could get dry and dressed and then they could discuss this... thing and it would all be fine. “Indeed, Sire.”   
  
“Well, we can sort that,” Charles said, and started unbuttoning his coat.   
  
“That's not what I meant, Sire,” Sotherby argued, but was vaguely impressed by the sheer speed at which Charles disrobed. Not that he was looking.   
  
Charles laughed, and stepped in the bath with him, straddling his thighs. “Shame,” he said, wrapping his arms around Sotherby's neck. “It is what I meant.” He kissed Sotherby again, leaning closer and moaning as their wet skin slid against each other.  
  
“Charles,” Sotherby whimpered, his hands ending up on Charles' lower back. “This isn't right...”  
  
“This is exactly right, Sothers,” Charles tells him, nuzzling at his neck. “It's too magnificent not to be.”   
  
Sotherby had to agree with him there as he felt Charles' hardening cock against his own, gasping at the feeling. “Charles,” he whimpered.  
  
Charles just smirked against Sotherby's skin, continuing to kiss down his neck. “Yes?” he murmured happily, as he felt hands slide up his back.  
  
“We should -” Sotherby moaned as Charles sucked on a sensitive spot.  
  
“Should what?” Charles asked, blowing warm air over the wet skin and smiling as Sotherby shivered under him.  
  
“Talk,” Sotherby managed. They certainly had to do that, the rational part of his brain insisted.   
  
Charles leaned back to raise his eyebrows. “You want to talk _now_?” he asked, grinding down and smirking smugly as Sotherby was reduced to swearing and moaning underneath him.   
  
Sotherby looked at him, whimpering as Charles repeated the movement with a fluid roll of his hips. “After,” he gasped. Not now. Definitely not now.   
  
“I always do take your advice to heart, Sothers,” Charles murmured, and leaned in for a thorough kiss.


End file.
